Burst Into Full Bloom
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: "She had to laugh at herself. This was insane... She was snuggling with a man she wasn't even sleeping with. Most of his body was pressed against hers, on top of hers, and it was making her pulse quicken, her heartbeat arrive rather too quickly..." I wrote this fic about a widowed Hermione finding love again with Neville Longbottom. Inspired by Heart of the Phoenix. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Reconnecting with Colleagues

**Chapter 1: Reconnecting with Colleagues**

Hermione Weasley batted away the steamy mist emanating from the Hogwarts Express as she looked her daughter over one final time. "Bag. Jumper." she checked off. Satisfied, she hugged her daughter. "I'm so glad this isn't goodbye! I can't believe I'm coming with you this term! I haven't been on the Hogwarts Express since I was a sixth year!"

"Yeah, cause you and Dad and Uncle Harry dropped out," her son, Hugo, snickered without any malice, as he lugged his trunk onto the train. He would be starting his first year this fall, and he was nervous, all the more so because his Mummy was coming with him. Hermione knew inherently that it would be hard for Hugo to adjust to her being there, but her son had insisted he would be fine.

Glancing around, Hermione bit her lip. Not everyone was here to see this occasion, one notable absence in particular aching her heartstrings.

Ron Weasley had quite suddenly passed away earlier that year. Bad case of pneumonia. His death had rocked the wizarding world and the Weasley brood, leaving Hermione a widow, leaving her without her husband, the love of her life and best friend for the first time in almost three decades. The family had rallied around her for the funeral that spring, and in the months since, Hermione had thrown herself into work at the Ministry while also rearing Hugo as he finished Muggle primary school.

Then, over the summer, Minerva McGonagall had come to call at the Weasley home and offered Hermione the professorship for Charms at Hogwarts. Hugo had actually given a vote of confidence, and Hermione had agreed to the job offer. It would make a nice change from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and besides, Hermione had always loved learning and teaching. She remembered fondly teaching her children their letters when they were babies.

The clock chimed 11:00 and the train whistle blew. "All aboard, everybody!" Hermione encouraged, and she, Hugo and her 13-year-old daughter Rose boarded the locomotive. As soon as the train began to set into motion, Hermione waved the two kids down to an empty compartment. Rose paused at the door when her mother did not follow. "Come on, Mum."

Hermione just smiled and shook her head. Hard as it was, she was going to make a concerted effort to stay as non-intrusive into her children's lives as possible. It went against a lot of her instincts - maternal and otherwise - but she knew her babies would both come to appreciate it, especially Hugo, though he was too polite and considerate to say so. "It's all right, love. I'll find an empty compartment toward the back. You and Hugo get settled in. Have fun, find your friends and cousins."

Hugo shot her a grateful look over Rose's shoulder, and the two waved as Hermione moved on down the central causeway, eventually finding a private compartment close to the caboose. Taking a seat, her handbag on the armrest beside her, Hermione dug into the accessory and propped open a book, following her tradition of traversing the long journey by reading.

* * *

In the chaos of the Hogwarts station, Hermione said a quick goodbye to Rose and Hugo as they headed to the threstral carriages, and slipped away, preferring to make the final leg to the castle on foot. She made great time, entering the gates and heading on final approach to the Great Hall as the bobbing lights from the first-year boats were still swarming across the lake.

Minerva greeted Hermione quietly in the Entrance Hall, then led her to the staff table in the Great Hall, where everything was prepared for the Start-of-Term speech. Right away, Hermione spied a familiar toothy grin as its owner plopped into the chair next to her.

"I was so pleased to hear you had been brought onboard!" Neville Longbottom crowed in greeting as he and Hermione exchanged a hug. "Grand to see you, Hermione. It's been too long."

Hermione smiled with sentimental affection at her old friend. "Indeed it has, Nev."

Neville nodded. "You look lovely."

Hermione ducked to hide a smile, even as she felt her face grow warm. "Th... Thank you."

"So: how are the children?" Neville smiled as he began to cut into his meal.

"Amazing. Hugo is starting his first year."

"That's right," Neville slapped his hand on the table as he remembered. "Harry mentioned it to me over drinks not to long ago. You must be very proud." He paused, his voice dropping slightly as he then inquired. "And how are you feeling right now?"

Hermione appreciated the phrasing. In the initial weeks after Ron's death, person after person would come and ask her how she was feeling. As if the answer wasn't obvious. In reading up on grieving (part of her involved process for coping), Hermione had come to learn that the best way to ask after a despondent person was to ask how they were feeling in the moment, rather than in general. She silently thanked and praised Neville for his sensitivity. It made her recall the beautiful bouquet of flowers that Neville had brought with him to the funeral, as part of his condolences. She still had those flowers, carefully preserved with magic and sitting in a vase on her kitchen table. The accompanying sympathy card had been equally as sweet.

"I'm... doing better, thank you," Hermione smiled bravely, then sighed. "It's been a long year."

Neville nodded in understanding. "You'll be happy here," he promised her. "The children will be with you, and if you ever need anything... I'm always on hand."

Hermione glanced up into his face, meeting his eyes, and smiled weakly, appreciatively. She dared to squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Neville."

She retracted her hand too quickly, averting her eyes to focus on her plate. Something about Neville's expression, his earnest sincerity, left her... flustered. She couldn't quite pinpoint the cause, only that she appreciated Neville's company. Aside from him and Minerva, she didn't know anyone else on the Hogwarts staff. It would be nice to have a friend.

And no doubt about it: Neville had really grown up - and grown into himself - since they were children, since he and Hermione had been in school. His baby fat was long gone, and in its place was lean muscle and all-around handsome features. The dirt that Neville dealt with daily as the Herbology professor gave him a rugged look that only added to how... handsome he appeared.

Hermione shook her head as the first years were led before the Sorting Hat. She was a young widow, and still navigating the stages of mourning her late husband. She didn't have time to go searching for a new relationship. Even so, Neville was so dear and understanding...

Like she had told herself before: it would be nice to have a friend.


	2. Chapter 2: Hogsmeade Date

**Chapter 2: Hogsmeade Date**

Hermione peered over the tops of the heads of her students as the throng gathered around the posted parchment on the thumbtack board. Headmistress McGonagall had just announced the Hogsmeade visit dates for the entire academic term, as well as the faculty chaperones assigned to each one. Right away, Hermione saw her name listed beside the very first outing: October 24th, just before Halloween.

"Newbies on staff are always given the first visit of the term. Kind of an initiation thing." She felt Neville sidle up beside her. He peered closer at the list. "Well, it looks like I'm the clock with you next Saturday week!"

Hermione smiled. "That makes me feel better," she admitted. "And this will be Rosie's first visit to the village as a student." She had signed off on the permission parchment herself this summer when Rose had brought it home. It made Hermione think of Harry's relatives and their refusal to extend him the same courtesy.

She sensed Neville's eyes on her. "You're nervous," he guessed.

Hermione tired to shrug it off.

"Rose is a responsible kid, Hermione. Best in my class of third years. Reminds me of someone else I know..." He winked at her, and she oddly blushed. "But, if it would make you feel better - take your mind off things... fancy going with me?"

Hermione was just about to point out that they already were going together as chaperones when she caught a deeper meaning behind his question. She peered at Neville curiously. "Are you... asking me out?" she inquired. "Like on a date?"

Neville shrugged and smirked. "Must be a lucky day."

Hermione studied her colleague in amusement. She could not hide the fact that she was taken aback. But she was... _pleased_ , too. "Yes, all right, then," she smiled. "I'll meet you here in the Entrance Hall."

October 24th came quickly. Hermione and Neville corralled the third years into the threstral carriages that would take them into the Village. As Hermione disembarked from her carriage, she stopped short at the hand Neville proferred out to her. Smiling shyly, she took it, and thanked him for helping her down. They held hands for a moment longer than was strictly necessary, before quickly parting, remembering their position.

The third years were already clamoring and racing away down the leaves-covered streets. Rose now scampered over to the teachers with two of her friends. "Mummy! Mummy, can I go with Meggie and Kara to Zonko's?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course, dear." Beaming, Rose raced away. "But make sure you pay a visit to Uncle George! And don't go beyond Flourish and Blotts!"

Neville chuckled as he watched Rose and her friends disappear from sight. "Who came up with that rule?"

Hermione smirked. "Ron," she admitted quietly, but fondly. "When they were still in nappies, practically. Safety, you know. Rose and Hugo have only ever been here to see their uncle at his shop, or tagging along with the family."

The pair of teachers, now alone, strolled down the streets of Hogsmeade, talking amicably. As they approached the village's most familiar establishment, Hermione found herself boldly asking, "Fancy a drink in the Leaky?" But instead, she found Neville taking her hand, his touch making her go warm, effectively battling the fall chill.

"I have a better idea." And he led her further down the street until they came upon Madame Puddifoot's. She had to cringe a little at the decorations - even in the middle of fall, the place still looked like it was decked out for Valentine's Day. Neville escorted Hermione inside, going so far as to graciously pull out her chair for her, and ordered two small glasses of champagne. As they waited, he grimaced sheepishly, apologetically, at her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just I haven't been to the Leaky in a while, and I don't venture there, if I can avoid it."

It was only then that Hermione remembered, and she wanted to die of mortification. The news had been rather public in the _Daily Prophet_ , and Rita Skeeter had had a field day. "The divorce. Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be..."

"No, no, it's all right," and Neville sent her an easy smile that put her right as rain. But in his eyes, there was clearly sadness, regret. Hermione's heart went out to him.

"What happened to you and Hannah?"

Neville sighed, and in the interim of gathering his thoughts, the waiter returned with their drinks. Neville immediately paid, shaking off Hermione's protestations. "I haven't had a chance to treat a lady in a long while."

Hermione flushed, eyes going down to her lap. Neville finally gained his composure.

"It was work that drove us apart," he began. "I was up at the greenhouses, and Hannah stayed in our flat above the Leaky. I tried to get her to come up with me to the castle - my quarters have plenty of room for married faculty - but she didn't want to be that removed from the bar. And, you know... as Head of Gryffindor House, I had to stay in my quarters pretty much most nights, so I couldn't go home to her and she couldn't wait up for me. She would visit for House Feasts. We argued. I would come home on every break and summer. We argued. Nothing helped. We just... drifted apart." He smiled sadly. "We parted less than amicably."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't imagine. Losing someone like that." In some ways, it felt almost worse than losing a spouse to death, as she had. She could never imagine a scenario where she would have divorced Ron. And she felt quite certain that Ron would have fought to make their marriage work, for the sake of the children.

"It's no worse than what you went through," Neville shook his head. "Peas and carrots compared to your experience, truth be told. When I received the owl from Harry, I about fell to the ground. Rose was in my classroom that day, I had to put on the performance of my life and pretend nothing was wrong."

"You didn't take her aside and tell her after class?" Of course he hadn't - Rose had first learned the news from her mother after Uncle Harry had rounded her up for a forced weekend trip home.

"Wasn't my place," Neville shook his head fervently.

Touched, Hermione appreciatively took his hand. "Thank you, Nev." Again, a tense silence filled the space between them, and they glanced away. Only then did Hermione remember that there were probably students in here - some of _their_ students. "What... what will our pupils think if they see us in here together?" She immediately chastised herself for the way she put it.

Neville chuckled and raised his champagne glass. "They can think whatever they like. To good company."

Hermione grinned and chinked glasses. "To good company."


	3. Chapter 3: Quidditch Quickie

**Chapter 3: Quidditch Quickie**

"I've never really liked Quidditch much," Hermione expressed, as she and Neville strolled together along the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch. "I used to go and support Ron and Harry when I was in school. And of course, Rosie loves it so..." she smiled sadly. "Ron was proud as a peacock when she made the Gryffindor team last year. Refused to shut up about it at work."

Neville laughed. "I can imagine. Here, I spy some good seats up aways," as they arrived at the Quidditch pitch and Neville guided Hermione into the stands. Her brow furrowed, a smiling coming to her face as a memory surfaced - a memory that had occurred close to these very seats.

"Why, I think this is right about where you fought Crabbe and Goyle, and Ron fought Malfoy, during Harry's first Quidditch match!"

Neville chuckled nervously as he recalled it to. "Well, yes, I suppose it is!"

Hermione smiled. "You broke Crabbe's nose I think, taking on two all by yourself. You were very brave." Neville's face went red.

It was a blustery day for the first Quidditch match of the season. Hermione cheered and clapped as her daughter - Gryffindor's Seeker - zoomed by in a blur on her broom. "Go, Rosie! Whooo!"

An hour passed. Then two. After about five hours, and with still no sighting of the Snitch, the sun was beginning to set, and the teachers were pressuring Madame Hooch to declare a winner without the Snitch, even though that was against the rules. Spectators were milling about, slower and slower. Stifling a yawn, Hermione unconsciously found herself leaning her head on Neville's shoulder, content in letting him watch for her.

"Anything yet?" she murmured sleepily, as a marginally enthused roar went up at Gryffindor's Chasers scoring another ho-hum goal.

"Nope."

"Ke... keep me posted," Hermione yawned. Within moments, she had fallen asleep. It was about half and hour later when a sharp gasp came from the crowd as Rose went into a dive, followed soon after by a disappointed groan.

"False alarm, Hermione," Neville groused. No answer. "Hermione?" He craned his head slightly to see that Hermione was still asleep on his shoulder. It was deep night now, the stands illuminated by stadium lighting. The match was still unresolved with no clear end in sight. Glancing at his watch, Neville swept Hermione off her feet as discreetly as she he could, shuffling out of their row as he slowly carried her back to the castle.

He knew where her professor chambers were, but he didn't have the heart to wake her up so she could give the password. So, Neville elected to climb up the Astronomy Tower, up to his own professor quarters and quietly let them both in. Depositing Hermione gingerly on his four-poster bed, he left her in her clothes and shyly pulled back the covers. Crawling in beside her, and turning on his side, he did his best to fall asleep.

* * *

The early morning light pierced Hermione out of the dream she was having. Blinking blearily, she slowly took in her surroundings enough to now that she was not in her bed. These were not her chambers. Where was she?

She jumped a little when she discovered Neville a few inches away from her, facing her with his mouth adorably open as he snored away. And with one arm slung across her frame. He was almost spooning her. He was bare-chested and she admired his muscles unbidden.

For one mad second, Hermione panicked, thinking that something untoward had happened between attending the match and somehow ending up here. A long exhale of relief came on the discovery that she was still fully clothed. Of course nothing had happened; Neville was far too much of a gentleman for that.

All the same, their rather intimate and tender position got her thinking. It had been months since she had shared a bed with anyone, and the human closeness felt nice. All the more so considering who her current partner was. Neville was so sweet and dear... quite suddenly, Hermione found herself imagining a relationship with her colleague, and astonished herself when she concluded that she fancied the idea. After all, she was scarcely 40 - there was plenty of time yet to explore. Only the pang of Ron gave her pause, but even this was weak - the concern about dating in a work-related environment, even weaker.

Hesitantly, Hermione did not push Neville away or throw his arm off, preferring instead to nestle ever so slightly against him and fall back to sleep.

* * *

Hermione woke up once again, with the sun high in the sky this time, to find a hand resting dangerously close to her breast. She felt his mouth caught on the tendrils of her hair.

She had to laugh at herself. This was insane. It was maybe lunchtime (it was difficult to check the clock as Neville, for all intents and purposes, had her pinned under him) and she was snuggling with a man she wasn't even sleeping with. Most of his body was pressed against hers, on top of hers, and it was making her pulse quicken, her heartbeat arrive rather too quickly.

Her body was singing, and she wrestled with enjoying the warm weight of his... she felt so secure. She really was going batty, and her erratic heartbeat wasn't the only indication. Neville's head was pressed against her breast, in the valley of them practically, and his one leg was wedged between her thighs. Hermione only hoped that he didn't wake up to the clear dampness that was pooling around herself; she just might die of shame. Squirming or shifting was out of the question, he was already holding her so tightly. She sighed, resigning herself to instead pressing a light kiss to his hair, before petting it.

Neville stirred just enough to nuzzle her breasts and Hermione let out an involuntary hiss. That got him. He looked up, wide awake, realized their position.

"Oh, Godric... Hermione, I'm so sorry!" He tried to wriggle out from between her legs, and she gasped as she clearly felt his... _excitement_ brush up against her calves. Almost on instinct, Hermione felt her legs tighten around him, keeping him clamped there. He didn't resist any further, staying there, but turned his face away so that his face wasn't in her nipple, now perky and straining against her top.

"Erm... sorry."

Strangely, Hermione found herself laughing as she smiled at him. "For what?"

"I didn't mean to take advantage of you," Neville rambled as if he didn't have the time to get the words out, even while a ominous cloud loomed over his eyelids. "I want you," he blurted without thought. Her breath hitched as she took a sharp intake of breath. "I want you. But..."

Hermione took a deep breath and grinned at him easily. "What's stopping you?"

Two pairs of eyes locked.

"Hermione..." She could still feel the hard length of him along her thigh. Hermione gulped, and decided to be brave. To jump.

"Neville -"

Their lips slammed together with a finality that shook the whole of Neville's chambers, it seemed. As soon as their lips met, hands fisted fabric and pulled. There was only one outcome. They had to make love. They were going to make love. It was imperative, and inevitable.

Arching her back, Hermione shimmied to help as Neville shrugged her professor robes off of her shoulders. The bunches of fabric rolled off of the mattress and pooled on the floor at their feet. Neville's fingers flew to the buttons on her blouse, the digits shaking as he worked frenetically to remove each and every button. Hermione quickly shucked that too as soon as she could reasonably wrench it free, half-tearing the cloth in the process. Oh, well. She had never really fancied that top, and when weighing its value against the desire to have wild sex with Neville Longbottom right bloody _now_ , there was no contest.

Bare from the waist up now except for her bra, Neville audaciously palmed Hermione's breasts, and he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, around her probing tongue as each finger moved over the soft mound. His mouth never moved from hers, as he undid her bra and cast that aside too. Then he placed soft kisses along Hermione's jawline to her collarbone, until he encountered her boobs. He nuzzled one, licked a nipple into the space between his roving lips and Hermione sucked in her breath through her teeth. She was purring, her hands rummaging up and down his rippling back and all around him, as she worked to undress him; he had on far too much clothing. On to undressing herself, pushing her business skirt down over and past her hips.

Neville looked up to Hermione's eyes, so she could clearly see they were black with lust. "Moan as loud as you want, love. I want to hear everything. I want to know what you like." He nipped at her neck, then switched targets to one rosebud of a nipple, sealing his mouth around it with the tightness of a suction cup. "Mmmmm... Hmmmmm..." Hermione whimpered happily, and Neville's cock gave a violent jump.

"Hurts?"

"Nnnn... Noooooo..." Hermione groaned happily, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her skull.

"Good."

Neville bit and suckled and mouthed and kissed and bit again along Hermione's face, down her body, his lips peppering along the taut lines of her stomach, brushing her navel, continuing as he pushed her business skirt down even further below her hips, down to her thighs, her calves... Her panties quickly followed and Hermione frantically kicked them off. She was writhing on the bed... his bed... a woman he had wanted for years, had pined for since they met on the Hogwarts Express as first years. The buckle of his belt clinked and clanged as he flung it aside and yanked his pants free and away, boxers and all, his manliness standing at attention for her, throbbing almost in pain and begging to be released.

From the way Hermione's eyes widened, she saw plenty of his equipment. From the way her face turned a deep shade of burgundy, she liked what she saw, was impressed by it. It was all the permission Neville needed. With a slam that shook his four-poster, he buried himself into her pulsing, dripping core.

Hermione's walls clenched around him eagerly and she screamed his name, and it was the sweetest, most alluring sound he had ever heard. She was writhing under him, unable to get enough. Then, with a boldness nether of them knew she possessed, her hands found his chest, and she pushed, flipping Neville so hard, his head slammed back into the headboard so that it rattled, as Hermione sexily slung one leg across his waist and moved to straddle him. Hermione sat, settled atop her throne regally, an arse cheek across each of his calves and she slowly rocked against him, her ministrations undulating from the sloped curve of her rear all the way up to the small of her back. She pushed his hands up against her breasts allowing Neville to touch her, as she bent her face over his and passionately kissed him with a roving, plundering tongue.

"Hmmmmmm... Mmmmmm... Uhhhhh... GUHHHHHHH! UHHHHHHH! OH! Godric! Neville!" Hermione's voice was throaty, raspy, had seemed to have dropped an octave in some places and making her sound even sexier.

They were both sweating, panting and he gazed into her chocolate orbs. "I love you." Neville had never been surer of anything else in his life.

That did it for Hermione. She hadn't had sex in so bloody _long_ , and certainly never without love involved. It sent her over the edge and she threw back her head with a cry as her pussy dropped with a crash onto Neville's member one final time. "NEVILLE!" she came apart with a wail, shuddering through her violent orgasm. "Neville... oooooh... Ooh!" She yelped acutely as Neville rammed into her one final time, before he spilt all he had up into her. Hermione sagged over Neville's prone from in a heap, and they lay there for a moment tangled in post-coital bliss, coming down from their high. When Neville finally made to dislodge her as delicately as he could, Hermione just tightened herself around him.

"Don't. You. Dare." And even with the lingering lust in her voice, she sounded enough like the proper, matronly Hermione for him to obey. As Hermione's vision swam, as her voice slurred with a combination of orgasmic high and pulling sleep, she managed to croak out:

"I love you, too." Within moments, they were both comatose, still wrapped in each other's arms and embrace, Neville still buried inside of Hermione.

It was the best bloody shag of Hermione's life.


	4. Chapter 4: Yule Ball

**Chapter 4: Yule Ball**

Hermione checked herself in the wall-length mirror inside her professor chambers one more time, admiring her look and giving it a satisfied nod.

She still couldn't believe she was doing this. When Neville had asked her to go to the Yule Ball with him, on account of Hogwarts hosting the Triwizard Tournament again this year, she had been flattered. She had also been surprised... but not as much as she might have been before. Glancing at the shimmering, enchanted rose in the bell jar on her nightstand, Hermione smiled. She was still thrilled with, and touched by, how Neville had asked her, pulling her aside for a word after the staff meeting, and presenting her with the exquisite flower after all the other teachers had left. It had not been a hard decision to say Yes.

Even so, attending the Yule Ball on the arm of her colleague seemed so... formal. More so than the outing to Hogsmeade or even going together to Rosie's first Quidditch match, this truly felt like a date. She hadn't dated in more than fifteen years, not since before she was married, certainly. And in the close to a year since her husband's death, finding someone new had been the very last thing on her mind.

Just the same, she wanted to please Neville. She hoped the tight periwinkle dress accentuated her figure in all the right places, while ignoring the clear curves that had come from bearing two children. The dress was brand-new, unique, a fresh start - when she had briefly entertained taking up her old pink dress herself, the one from when she was 14, she had just as quickly dismissed the notion out of hand. That pink dress was special. It held for Hermione another memory of Ron, and even if the memory wasn't a particular happy one (that Yule Ball Eve had remained as one of their worst fights, right up until the day Ron died), Hermione now possessed a strange fondness for the garment. The first Yule Ball had marked a turning point in her and Ron's relationship, one that ultimately had made them stronger and given them the first dose of courage to slowly face and accept their feelings for one another. And so the pink dress would stay where it belonged, right in her closet at her home in Ottery St. Catchpole, right next to her little red dress and of course her wedding dress.

Hermione took a secret passageway from her quarters to the grand staircase of the Entrance Hall. As she descended the stair, she met an awestruck Neville below. He had on a tuxedo that looked a tad too small, but nonetheless made him look quite dashing. Smiling nervously, Hermione felt butterflies flitter through her stomach as Neville reverently kissed her hand in greeting. "You look beautiful," he murmured quietly.

Hermione flushed crimson. "Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

They followed the Champions and rest of the students into the Great Hall, joining the congregation leading off the first dance. As Hermione allowed Neville to hold her gently, spinning about in his arms, she couldn't help but self-consciously check to see if any of her students were watching. Only fourth years and up were allowed to be here, Rose being only just too young (she would have needed to be asked by an eligible student to be allowed to attend), and Hermione thanked Merlin for that. As far as she knew, neither her son nor her daughter suspected that anything... _charged_ was going on between their mother and their Herbology teacher. But that didn't mean that one of their older friends or cousins, Merlin forbid, might see something and go blabbing right to Rose or Hugo. Hermione's niece, Dominique, was particular cause for concern, as she and Rose were especially close.

"Hermione," Neville soothed, sensing her nerves. "Relax. Other professors are dancing with each other. Let the students think what they like."

Hermione danced with Neville all evening, even after other adults (and, embarrassingly, a few fresh seventh years) tried to cut in. After the last call, Neville escorted Hermione off the floor and kissed her hand in thanks.

"May I walk you to your quarters?"

Hermione beamed, his sweetness never ceasing to amaze her. "It doesn't have the best view. But, you may, thank you."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Neville chuckled, offering Hermione his arm. "I just feel terrible that your closest neighbor is Pansy Parkinson." They laughed at the dig against the Potions mistress and Head of Slytherin House.

Neville walked Hermione down to her chambers, which were based in the dungeons, several corridors off of the Slytherin Common Room. Pausing before her door, the pair regarded each other awkwardly. It really shouldn't have been so tense - not with what happened after the Quidditch match.

Behind his back, Neville waved his wand, then pretended to notice something just above them. "Oh, look. Mistletoe."

Hermione followed his gaze, and before she could say anything, Neville had slung one arm about her waist, pulled her flush against him and kissed Hermione full on the mouth.

Gasping a little, a surprised Hermione took a moment to relax into the kiss. Closing her eyes, she kissed Neville back, a low purr emanating in the back of her throat as she hesitantly opened her mouth to him. "Hmmmm..."

Neville drew away a moment later. "Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione smiled, conveying to him that she had enjoyed the kiss, and especially their evening. "Good night, Nev. I had a lovely time." Then, feeling bold, she suddenly flung one arm about his shoulder and kissed Neville deeply in return.

The kiss quickly became very involved. Neville hands found Hermione's hips, and when he felt her moan in approval, he dared to grope lower. His calloused palms dug into the curvy flesh of her bum through her dress, first cupping one cheek and then the other, giving each a firm but loving squeeze. Aroused, Hermione raised her leg to Neville's waist, hooking her thigh around his torso, even as her remaining leg popped and Neville lifted Hermione off her feet, so that her slippers came off and her toes dangled.

Neville slammed then both against the wall of the dungeons as he and Hermione furiously snogged, their hips grinding in a frantic desire to have sex once more. Pinning her against the damp stone, Neville's fingers delicately rolled back the hem of Hermione's dress, up her creamy thighs whilst her soaked panties were slid down almost to her calves in the opposite direction, the garments seamlessly passing each other. Hermione desperately worked to unclasp Neville's belt buckle, and popping the fly, she threw down his trousers, boxers and all. She got an eyeful of his erection, the red tip unhidden by the foreskin, and her face grew very red, though she was secretly proud that she could effect him so.

Thinking quickly, Hermione warded the entire corridor in every possible measure before Neville eagerly took her. She rocked enthusiastically against his center, matching him thrust for thrust, quickly relearning and getting the old magic back. A magic of an entirely new kind that could only be conjured when their bodies physically joined. Hermione's back tingled as she slid up and down against the wall, her head rolling as she groaned in pleasure.

"Uhhhh... Guhhhhh... Uhhmmmmmmm... Godric... Neville..."

He slammed into her feebly once, a second time and then collapsed, the climax quiet and shuddering for both of them as they came. Pulling out slowly, Neville hoisted Hermione down from the wall and they hurriedly redressed. Inspired and deeply aroused, Hermione bravely took Neville's hand as he made to take his leave.

"Stay with me tonight." The words were out in a ramble before she could stop them, yet her eyes were dark and sure. Seeing that Neville's stare matched the fire that was clearly in her gaze, she saw her colleague give a slight nod in assent. Their gazes locked, Neville and Hermione stared deeply into each other's eyes, not breaking the connection as Hermione slowly led him by the hand into her chambers.

The portrait hole was barely closed before the pair were on each other again, their lips snapping and biting as they kissed desperately with tongue and yanked at each other's clothes after only just getting put back together. Neither could get a hold of themselves for long. Throwing Hermione back down onto her four poster bed, Neville gallantly mounted her, his buttocks undulating as they unified and he made sweet love to her again...

* * *

It was the middle of the night, and they were a tangle of limbs, Neville dead asleep and strewn across Hermione's petite form. Stroking her lover's chest and hair, Hermione contemplated one trinket that remained on her right hand, even as in her left, she considered a potential usurper.

Hermione hadn't known when or if there was a right time to remove her wedding ring. Ron had spent months saving up for it on his meager Auror's pension, or at least that was what Harry had said. Though touched that he had gone to such great lengths, Hermione knew she would have married Ron even if there had been no ring at all, even if they lived as poor as church mice.

But now Ron was gone, and a glistening diamond ring now shimmered in her open palm, beckoning as Hermione weighed each band in her hand. Tears filled her eyes as she made her decision.

Slipping her wedding ring off, she tearfully kissed the gold. "I love you!" she whispered, the moisture clear in her voice. "I always will." Then reaching over Neville, she placed the ring in the small jewelry box on her nightstand, in a place of honor on top of the pile. Someday, she knew she would want to be buried with it, and it would always be there, so she could remember her first love. The father of her babies. Honor him.

But for now... Hermione replaced her empty ring finger with the new token, and woke Neville up, just enough to lightly kiss his lips and whisper, "Yes."


	5. Chapter 5: Fall in Love Anew

**Chapter 5: Fall in Love Anew**

The Hogwarts Express rumbled and swayed as Rose, Hugo, Hermione and Neville navigated the crowd of kids going home for the Christmas holidays. The quartet quickly commandeered an empty compartment.

"You lot get our stuff in order. I have to talk to Nev... Professor Longbottom," Hermione explained. Then, grabbing Neville by the hand, she dragged him out of the compartment and into another empty one, ignoring Rose's curious stare. Warding the compartment for privacy, Hermione squeezed Neville's palm.

"When should we tell them? Now?"

"We should do it at your place, love. I'll be on their turf. The easiest way to do this is to tip the balance of power in their favor. Make them feel that we are respecting them and whatever they have to say on the matter."

Hermione pecked Neville's lips gratefully. "Thank you. Let's go back before Rosie starts wondering where we are." The couple returned to the children's compartment. Hugo looked up from the Quidditch magazine he was rifling through. "How come you're coming home with us, Professor?"

"Home stays," Neville lied quickly. "Professors don't stay at the castle during the holidays, Hugo." That, at least, was true. And there were some colleagues who did depend on the generosity of friends to make up for what a teacher's pension couldn't bring. But Neville had never needed to use this courtesy... until now.

The train ride flew by quickly, and soon the Weasleys and Neville were disembarking onto Platform 9 3/4s. Hermione spotted the spiky black hair of her brother-in-law in the crowd and hurried over to where he was collecting James, Albus and Lily.

"Can't stay and chat, Harry, sorry," Hermione apologized as she buzzed his cheek once in greeting. "I'll see you at Molly's for Christmas Day!" Hurrying back to Neville and the children, she led them through the barrier and to her car, which she drove to Ottery St. Catchpole.

The foursome more or less staggered into the house from exhaustion. "Take your things upstairs, and wash up for dinner," Hermione ordered.

"Yes, Mum." Hugo bobbed his head as he followed Rose up the stairs. The adults drifted into the kitchen. Neville sat heavily in one chair.

"What if they don't like me?"

Hermione stared, reaching over to kiss him gently. "They love you already. I... I think they'll be happy for us." In reality, she wasn't so sure. It had been just a year since Ron's death - how would her babies, young teenagers and pre-teens - react to their mother having a new man in her life? And their Herbology professor, no less?

When Hermione realized she could not delay the inevitable any longer, she crossed to the stair landing and called up:

"Rosie? Hughie? Can you come down here for a moment, darlings?"

She hurried back into the kitchen, strategically taking a place beside Neville at the sound of stampeding feet. Rose and Hugo appeared in the doorway, stopping short at how close their mother and Professor Longbottom were sitting together, with their hands joined. Rose picked up on the meaning faster, her eyes widening. "Mum...?"

"Lovelies, there's something that Prof... Neville and I want to discuss with you."

The children took seats across the table from the adults, Rose intriguingly, Hugo warily.

"Well... my dears, Mummy has called you here, because... because... because... you see, we wanted to ask..."

"What your mother is trying to say is, we wanted to ask you two if it would be all right if we got married?" Neville directed the question at Hugo, smiling as kindly as he could.

Rose's mouth dropped open, agape. Then she squealed and ran around the table to hug her mother. "Merlin's pants! Kara said she saw you two go to the Yule Ball together and I thought it was nonsense..." she gasped. "Mummy! Mummy... is there a ring?"

Hermione smiled weakly and showed her the engagement ring that she had just slipped out of her pocket and onto her finger. This was followed by much squealing and hugging and jumping up and down.

"Rose," Neville called quietly, gesturing to her seat, which she retook in an effort to contain herself. Neville continued, with his gaze still on Hugo.

"I'm not your father," he told the kids. "And I won't try to be unless the situation demands it. We can interact just as we do at school. I don't want to replace your dad. He was a fine man. And a bloody good mate." Rose and Hugo stared at the strong language, which didn't seem like Professor Longbottom at all. "Your mum and I genuinely want your input on this. May I marry her?"

Hugo was quiet for a minute. Finally, he raised his eyes back to Neville. "You'll make her happy?"

Neville shifted, straightened a little in his seat. "As much as I can."

"And you... really want my - _our_ \- permission?" Hugo quickly corrected himself.

"I really do," Neville replied sincerely. "Rose's, yes, but especially yours, Hugo. You are the man of the house." Hermione gazed at her lover and beamed, having never been more in love with him than in that moment. This was something that he had not discussed or floated with her, and she was very touched.

It appeared that Hugo was, too. Moved, even, as he wiped his sleeve furiously over his eyes. "Yes. You have my permission, Professor. But I do have one suggestion."

Neville blinked. "I'm all ears."

"Ask Uncle Harry for his permission. He's always been very protective of Mummy. You can do it at our family party at the Burrow."

"An excellent idea!" Neville grinned in agreement. "Your father would be proud of you, Hugo." He held out his hand, and Hugo shook it.

Smiling with pure love, Hermione circled the table, and began peppering her son's face with grateful kisses. Hugo squirmed half-heartedly. "Mum... geroff!"

"I love you, my little Keeper," Hermione whispered with affection. She had not expected Hugo's reaction to the news to go over so well. It had been very mature of him, to grant Neville his permission. Rose and Neville looked at each other, snickering at the display, then just as quickly looked away. It was a surprise to both of them. Rose now seemed oddly meek as she spoke up quietly.

"I just want you to know... I don't really mind you becoming my stepfather. Even if you are my teacher."

Neville regarded Rose gratefully, realizing that he had just gotten her blessing, in a sense. "I just want you to know... I really want to _be_ your _step_ father," as he emphasized the word _step_.

* * *

Only weeks later, on Valentine's Day, Neville and Hermione stood before the minister under a marquee at the Burrow. Hermione had been deeply moved that her in-laws had agreed to host her second wedding here, and to a man who was not their blood relative. It was very generous of them. Molly had, of course, dismissed Hermione's tearful thanks when the space had first been offered.

"You're the mother of my grandbabies, dear. Family lasts forever in this house." The matriarch even helped her daughter-in-law take up her old wedding dress, rather than purchasing a new one, allaying Hermione's fears over whether Ron would have wanted her to wear the garment they had gotten married in (leaving her bridal gown in a place of honor in her closet had been under serious consideration, as a last sign of fidelity and respect to her first love and husband). But all the same, as her father and a thrilled Harry jointly walked her down the aisle, Hermione sent up a prayer: "Ron Weasley, I'll love you until the day I die," she vowed in a whisper.

The minister smiled. "I now declare you bonded for life as husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Neville swooped Hermione into his arms and kissed her, and Hermione smiled happily against his lips as she closed her eyes and kissed him back to cheers. When they broke apart, she thought she saw her son furiously trying to hide happy tears. Hugo would be the last to ever admit to getting emotional. The thought made her smile, with an ache duller than it had ever been before: _Like father, like son..._

As Hermione and her new husband shared their first dance, the bride rested her head against his chest in contentment.

"I have something to tell you, love."

"Hmm?" Neville twirled her around. "And what's that, Mrs. Longbottom?"

Pausing the dance, Hermione stood on tiptoes and whispered. "I'm pregnant."

Neville drew back, eyes wide with shock and hope. "Are you serious?"

Hermione nodded. Beaming, the newlyweds pecked lips lightly. "I think it was that time we made love after the Ball. I want to name her Alice. After your mum."

Neville chuckled and drew Hermione closer. "So it's a girl, then, is it? Hugo's gonna _love_ that..."

As Neville and Hermione embraced and kissed, the shimmering rose burst into full bloom from where it sat on a table by the altar, its rouge glow washing over the couple and their long, dreamy kiss.


End file.
